


Blue

by DelightfullyDrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Squibs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2018-12-23 04:40:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11982324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelightfullyDrarry/pseuds/DelightfullyDrarry
Summary: Where Draco dyes his hair the colour of his emotions and Harry finds him in the most unlikely of places. Squib!Draco





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters will probably be short but hopefully will stay consistent. Enjoy x

"I am enough," Draco thinks but avoids his reflection in the mirror. He runs a hand through his freshly dyed hair with a sigh. Light blue invaded his once blond locks and Draco had mixed feelings. It was a beautiful colour; reminding him of cloudless skies and fresh ocean waves but the reason for the change also hid behind the dye. Draco Malfoy was feeling terribly blue. 

Pansy twirls her wand between nimble fingers with a grin. "I like it," She admits from the door frame. 

"Me too," Draco murmurs and it was true. He was a fan of it but... he still felt the slightest bit unsettled. As soon as the dye had set in his once plain hair, he knew this would be something he would continue doing. He didn't want to think about what his parents would say about his new appearance and a part of him didn't want to find out. 

Draco idles at Pansy's place for as long as he can, leaving only when the sky no longer resembled his hair. The lanky boy walks slowly, not very eager to return him. His Converse slap the light pavement, a steady rhythm he syncs his breathing to to remain calm. A sudden chill rushes over Draco's skin, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. His gaze skids across the streets of Little Whinging, panicked. He seemed rooted to the spot as soon as a decaying body clad in a ratty cloak makes it's way into Draco's vision. What were Dementors doing in Surrey? 

Draco knew he would surely be left for dead, kissed and forever void of his soul. He knows he should run from this horrible magical creature but his muscles were frozen, much like the air. The Dementor finally makes it toward the blue haired boy after a few moments of his quivering. Draco then felt the worst feeling he would surely ever experience. He had lost all sight and his breath was lead in his lungs and his knocked to the ground, knees betraying him. 

The Malfoy hadn't ever thought about what exactly would invade his thoughts if attacked by a Dementor and is only mildly shocked when Lord Voldemort's voice runs through his mind, murmuring Unforgivables at the thin Squib, no use to the snake-like man apart from his amusement. "J-Just kill me," Draco manages to choke, unable to feel the tears which slipped down his cheeks and seemed to freeze there. 

A surprisingly strong voice answers Draco moments later. "Expecto Patronum," There was a crack like a stiff whip and suddenly Draco's chest was filled with warmth. A scream falls from his mouth and he curls in on himself, unable to identify his saviour. He feels a firm hand on his shoulder and is swept away, Apparated to a house he doesn't recognize. "W-What," He slurs, suddenly standing and grabbing onto the wizard. The first thing he notices is the old musky smell, then hears a shrill voice say, "Bad blood! Traitor! Filthy Squib!" and the voice beside him snaps, "Shut the hell up, Walburga," a flick of moth eaten blinds soon after. 

"You need to sit down," The voice says and only then does Draco take note of him. 

"Harry," He whispers quietly, leaning heavily on the boy before eventually losing consciousness


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really enjoying this story so far and I hope you all are as well. Much love and sorry for any errors x

Draco wakes in a bed he just about sinks into. It takes him a moment to realize what had happened. Sitting up, it hits him that his whereabouts are still unknown and this makes him uneasy. All he knew was that he was alone with Harry Potter. 

Draco swings his feet over the bed and gets up despite his body’s heavy plea to lay back down. He leaves the bedroom and paddles down the hall, still somewhat disoriented and dizzy. He makes it down the stairs and heads to the kitchen which was filled with the sound of clanking heavy pans. Draco cringes as he looks around on his trek there. This house creeped him out beyond belief. House elf heads mounted the walls and the muffled screams of Walburga black causes Draco to flinch unexpectedly. 

The blue haired boy finally catches a clear glance at Harry Potter who stood in the middle of his kitchen, munching on squares of chocolate. Draco grins the faintest of smile before hanging onto the doorframe and saying, “These house elf heads give me the creeps,” 

Harry pivots with surprise, facing Draco with a soft expression, cheeks stuffed with sweets but seemingly glad to see the boy. He swallows loudly before nearing the Malfoy with a chuckle. “Yeah, Sirius was mental to keep them up. I really need to get rid of those. Now eat,” He orders and shoves a chocolate bar into Draco’s confused hands.

“I’m not quite in the mood for sweets, Potter,” Draco mutters. Harry rolls his eyes and motions wordlessly for Draco to eat. The blue eye hesitantly follows Harry’s orders once he realizes the wizard wouldn’t let up and was tremendously glad he had as soon as he sunk his teeth into the velvety chocolate. Fire bloomed in his chest and the fog deep in his head seemed to lift. Draco sighs lowly, relieved at the feeling. 

“I owled your parents while you were asleep,” Harry says, watching Draco slide into a kitchen chair. 

“What did they say?” Draco asks quietly as he continues eating the chocolate bar. 

“Your mother was worried and your father--” 

“Didn’t care,” Draco finishes, biting his tongue to keep from saying much else. 

“No...” Harry mutters. “He was just... less concerned,” He finishes yet Draco knew the boy was only trying to spare his feelings. 

The two sit in silence, Draco lost in his thoughts and Harry idling awkwardly. Malfoy knew his father could give a shit whether he was alive. He hadn’t seen Lucius since the war had ended 9 months ago. He and his mother fled from the Manor the moment Voldemort had fallen and his father never followed. Everyone knew how much Lucius despised his squib son. The two of them made it into the Prophet, a hot topic for months. 

“I like your hair,” Harry says as Draco continues to eat. 

“Thanks,” The weak boy mutters. “I just did it today,” He runs a hand through it insecurely and says, “I think my mum will like it. My old hair reminded her of father. That’s obvious,” 

Harry knew what Draco had said was true. His hair looked strikingly like Lucius’ and it was understandable why he would want to change it. “Are you feeling better?” He asks softly and Draco shrugs. 

“Yes,” He says, crinkling the chocolate wrapper in a pale fist. “Can you take me home?” He asks softly and Harry nods.

“Are you okay to Apparate?” The dark haired boy questions, watching Draco raise from the kitchen chair. 

“Mm, yes,” The blue boy mutters but sways so violently he has to sit back down.

“No, you’re not,” Harry says, voice laced with concern as he takes a seat beside Draco.

“It was horrible,” Malfoy whispers, staring at his hands. “It was so cold. LIke it’d freeze if I kept standing there but I couldn’t move. And I wouldn’t even defend myself. Do you know how humiliating that is?” He thinks back to the Dementor in Little Whinging and shutters. “I’ve never felt fear like that,” 

“I don’t know why they were following you. It shouldn’t have to do with the Ministry. They stopped using Dementors after the war,” Harry thinks aloud which only puzzles Draco further. Before he could speak up however, a fluffy ginger cat jumps into his lap. “Crookshanks!” Harry growls harshly yet the young Malfoy bats Harry’s hand away when he goes to shoo the cat off his lap, stroking the cat’s fur lovingly instead. “I’m watching over him for the month. Crookshanks is Hermione’s and she and ron went to visit Charlie in Romania,” 

Ron and Hermione’s names were familiar to Draco although he had never met them personally. Their faces were on every poster around Hogsmeade since they had first started hunting horcruxes so the names didn’t shock him.

“Cute,” Draco murmurs into the cat’s fur. Harry smiles fondly at the boy, amused how his face seemed to disappear into Crookshanks’ coat, his coloured hair the only distinguishing factor from the two. “Where did you get the chocolate from?” Draco asks, finally having lifted his head to lock eyes with Harry.

“Honeydukes,” Harry answers. Draco had never been to shat shop. Lucius seemed disgusted at the thought of going to any public space with his squib son so Draco never really went out much. Seemingly, the only thing the older Malfoy saw Draco as was a personal servant. Draco was used to cleaning; scrubbing floors until his hands ached and manually washing clothes until his skin was dry and cracked. The young boy couldn’t handle mess; he was so used to everything being spotlessly clean. 

“Thank you for the hospitality,” Draco blushes. “I never meant to burden you...” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry replies and Draco cringes, taking his words off as irritated. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I”ll just keep my mouth shut,” The boy whispers, looking down at his hands. He felt like he was speaking out of turn and annoying Potter. Annoyance wasn’t allowed in the Malfoy residence so he figured Harry lived by the same rules. Draco instantly expected punishment. He digs his nails into his wrist with gritted teeth, feeling as if he deserved the pain. Harry rips his hand away as soon as he notices. 

“Draco, what’re you doing? You’ve done nothing wrong,” Harry says with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I should be keeping my mouth shut,” Draco murmurs. “Not speaking until spoken to. Especially in someone else’s house. Merlin--” 

“Draco, calm down. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Harry whispers and the blue haired boy feels Potter’s hand overlap his own. 

“Thank you,” Draco stammers, eyes cast downward. “Can I have a shower?” He asks eventually. He shifts around in the clothes he had been wearing at Pansy’s house before. Dye stained his shoulders from where it had dripped during pansy’s sloppy application and was crisp with dried sweat. Draco wasn’t sure how it took him this long to realize how disgusting he felt. 

“Of course,” Harry says instantly, jumping up from his chair and breaking the contact of their work tarnished hands. Draco already missed it. Harry motions for the squib to follow him and so he does. “I have towels in this cabinet here and this is how you work the shower...” He does a half assed demonstration on how to use it before eventually leaving the Malfoy alone. 

Draco then takes the time to explore the room. It was considerably less creepy than the hallways and had no screaming portrait to frighten him. The tub was worn-down steel with a leaky drain, shower curtain pale blue with navy anchors. The squib couldn’t help but smile. 

Harry owls Narcissa again the moment he hears Draco start the shower. He offers the older woman over to collect her son and sends his new owl off to her location, getting a reply before Draco had finished showering, telling him she would be over immediately. The wards around Number 12 ping, alerting Harry of Mrs. Malfoy’s presence and Harry allows her inside. “How is he?” She asks, voice hushed, a habit Draco must have picked up from her which makes Harry’s heart clench. What had it been like living in the Manor? What had Draco and his mother gone through? 

“He’s showering right now and he’s... better. Awake. Lucid,” Harry explains, the two making their way into the kitchen, somewhere Potter knew Draco could easily find. 

“How did this happen, Harry? Dementors in Surrey?” She questions openly, just as confused as both Harry and Draco. 

“I’m not sure,” He admits. “I wish there was more I could do, Narcissa,” Harry says earnestly. 

“You’ve done more than enough,” Narcissa promises. “Thank you,” Sitting down in a kitchen chair, she is soon accompanied by Crookshanks, the cat intrigued by her much as he had been with Draco. The older woman is grinning as she runs her hands through the cat’s fur. 

“Mum?” They suddenly hear and two sets of eyes pan to Draco who wore one of Harry’s jumpers and incredibly tight jeans. Within seconds, Narcissa is pulling her son into a tight hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re safe, my little dragon,” She whispers into his coloured hair, still slightly damp but Narcissa didn’t mind. All she was focused on was her boy safe in her arms. 

“I’m fine, Mum. Harry took great care of me,” Draco murmurs and only then does Potter realize how much taller he was than his mother yet how strikingly similar they were otherwise. 

Narcissa pulls away from her son in order to shoot Harry another grateful smile. “You’re free to use the Floo if Draco is still too weak to Apparate,” Harry chimes as the blue boy smooths his shirt. He leads the two over to his fireplace, handing Narcissa a vase of powder. She kisses her son’s forehead before stepping inside and calling out for her apartment, disappearing in green flames moments later. 

Draco steps in soon after. He had only used the Floo once before when he was a small child so he wasn’t sure what to expect. “It doesn’t last long,” Harry reassures him upon seeing Draco’s worried expression. “Just a tug and then you’re home,” He promises. Draco takes a handful of powder in a shaky fist. Just as he opens his mouth to speak to the ashes, Harry interrupts him. “Oh Draco?” He calls. The boy opens his eyes he had shut in fear in order to meet Harry’s gaze. “Keep in touch, will you? Owl me if you need anything,” 

Draco blushes a bright red but nods. “Goodbye, Harry. Expect a letter soon,” He whispers and disappears before Potter could reply.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any errors. Enjoy x

Although Draco had Harry expecting a letter soon, he didn't anticipate a grey pygmy owl to drop a small square of parchment nearly into his morning porridge two days later. With raised eyebrows, Harry awards the animal a small bit of his toast before it hoots happily and flies off. The tan boy undoes the binding to the letter with a grin. He briefly recognized this owl. It happened to be the same one Narcissa Malfoy had used to send a letter to Harry days before.

Harry, 

Mum says our owl should be somewhat familiar to you from your earlier conversation with her so I'm hoping he didn't spook you too much. Scorpius is an angsty little bugger. A silencing charm around his cage keeps him from driving us along with our neighbors mad. Anyway, I just wanted to write to see how you were doing. Have you gotten any information on anything Dementor related? Mum and I haven't heard anything and were hoping you might've had some insight. If not, that's totally fine too. I'm just hoping to steer clear of those things. I've been having a lot of nightmares since it happened. Do you know if that's normal? Well, hopefully I'll still be in one piece whenever you write back. Thanks again, Harry.

Yours, 

Draco L. Malfoy 

PS. Mum liked my hair. Thank Merlin. 

Harry is grinning widely by the time he reaches the end of the letter. He found Draco Malfoy incredibly endearing. The dark haired wizard conjures up a reply after finishing his breakfast. His was nowhere near as lovely as Draco's. 

Draco, 

Sadly I have nothing to report in relations to Dementors. I was pleased to get your letter however. I understand how troublesome owls are but your mother had the right idea to put silencing charms up. In regards to your nightmares, sadly, those are common after a Dementor attack but should go away soon. I'm also glad your mum liked your hair, I very much enjoy it too. 

Yours, 

Harry J. Potter

PS. Enjoy the chocolates. 

He then attaches a small parcel of sweets along with his letter to his new owl's leg and sends her off to find the squib boy. 

Draco is equally as thrilled to get Harry's letter and was grinning just as wide once he finishes it. That boy sure was something. Draco had heard many stories of Harry but having his own take on the boy and seeing how brilliant he really was left Draco uncomfortably giddy, and what did Harry think of him? How did he even know who the blue haired boy was? 

Frowning, Draco pops a square of Honeydukes chocolate into his mouth and heads to his room after rewarding Harry's owl, parcel in hand. Surely Harry didn't hate him or else he wouldn't have asked Draco to keep in contact with him but the Malfoy couldn't help but feel the slightest bit insecure. "I'm just a filthy squib," He thinks irritably, running a hand over his face. But... did Harry really think that? and why did his opinion even matter? Then again, the Golden Boy's opinion must matter to many. But Draco wasn't some silly fangirl. Sure, he would manage to snatch the Prophet from the trash bin whenever his father chose to discard it, reading up on the boy, but it wasn't like Draco was obsessed. 

Harry however couldn't get the squib off his mind. Admittedly, one of the worst things about seeing into Voldemort's head, he decides, is witnessing the things the horrible wizard would do to Draco. The Boy Who Lived hadn't personally come in contact with Draco until that night in Surrey but already knew so much about him from behind Riddle's eyes and the things he saw were never pleasant. 

With a shudder, Harry gets up from his kitchen chair and decides to fire call Ron and Hermione. It would be nice to catch up with them and, maybe, they might have insight on Dementor attacks he wasn't aware of. 

Hermione seems overjoyed to see the boy wonder but frowns deeply when Harry tells her about the Dementor attack. "Do you think it might be because well..." Hermione's voice hushes. "Because he's a squib?"

Harry scoffs, disgusted by the idea. "Surely not," HE says as he runs a hand through his hair. "I just can't help but worry for him because he's so innocent and has no way to defend himself. Whoever set those Dementors were especially cruel knowing he was a squib and doing that to him..." He trails off. 

"He's safe now and that's all that matters, right?" Hermione surmised and Harry finds himself nodding. Both of his friends knew about Harry's insight in Voldemort's mind but he never mentioned much about Draco, just that he was "The Malfoy boy from the Prophet," although he would have much more to say about him now. The thought alone leaves Harry beaming.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was incredibly short. Sorry my dudes x

Draco wished he had it in him to open his eyes. He was deep under an unforgiving wave of sleep, trapped in a nightmare he couldn't escape. 

// 

Voldemort shot an amused grin at the blond squib. "Clean Nagini's mess, Draco," He orders dryly. 

The boy frowns at the trail of blood the snake had left for him, an innocent Hogwarts professor's remains left for Draco to get rid of. He grabs a thick rag and begins mopping up the blood, cringing and gagging at the smell, tears welling in his eyes. Nagini hissed in his ear, as if to taunt him and a whimper of fear leaves Draco's mouth causing the Death Eaters around him to laugh and for Draco's fear and embarrassment to worsen. 

"Faster, Draco," The Dark Lord commands. "We don't want to stain your mother's floors, do we?" He mocks with false concern. 

"N-No," Draco chokes and scrubs faster until his hands ache and the rag is stained red. 

//

The young Malfoy awakens with tears caking his cheeks. His hands shook, trembling harshly and he sobs loudly into them, praying he wouldn't wake his mother. She didn't know of his nightmares although he knew just how often she had hers. She found solace in the cushions of their living room couch and Draco was willing to give that a try. 

The sky boy tiptoes to the furniture and curls in on himself. Foolishly he thinks that Harry would somehow be able to fix this but deep down he knew the boy couldn't. How could he ever banish Draco's demons? 

A shudder of fragile breath leaves the boy's mouth and he sobs into his sleeves again. Draco Malfoy needed someone yet didn't want to ask for the help. Anyone who knew Draco would know this and Pansy was equally upset each time Draco would eventually tell her of his mental breakdowns. 

Draco cries until he feels sick and only then does he find it in himself to seek out calm.He runs a hand through his hair and pulls himself up from the couch. Daylight hadn't had much of a chance to beak above the horizon before Draco was slipping on his shoes. Dementors be damned; Draco needed to clear his head. 

Considering the early hour, the streets of Little Whinging were mostly deserted. The lanky squib was free of aimlessly stroll, stuck in his own head until his thoughts no longer raced. On his early morning walk he spots Mrs. Figg sipping a cup of tea on her front porch with a cat on her lap and reading what seemed to be the Daily Prophet. The woman notices Draco by the familiar slap of his shoes on the concrete. She often told him how his steps were always soft and calculated. The statement always made the boy laugh. Mrs. Figg offers Draco a cup of tea and the boy quickly agrees. It was always nice being around the woman, no matter how strange she was. Despite her quirks, being around another squib made the Malfoy feel much more normal. 

Once of the woman's cats curls into Draco's lap as soon as the boy sat down. The older squib compliments Draco's hair and the Malfoy thanks her with a grin. He tells her about the Dementor attack halfway through his tea. Mrs. Figg listens intensely, growing angered with each detail, fuming once he finishes. "That's horrible," She says eventually. "Thank goodness Harry was there. Who knows what would've happened if she wasn't," She gasps but the two of them had a pretty good idea of the outcome. 

"We're keeping in touch," Draco admits, running his fingers through the cat's fur. 

A grin forms across the woman's face. "Good. You two both needed new friends," She chuckles causing Draco to scoff.

"I was doing just fine with Pansy," He says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Mrs. Figg laughs and ruffles Draco's hair. "Whatever you say," She replies.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco had been ignoring both Pansy and Harry's owls for the past week. Pansy knew not to panic over this. Being friends with Draco meant she knew when the boy needed to be left alone. Unfortunately Harry didn't know now was one of those times. He owled Draco often, using the excuse that he was afraid the Malfoy had gotten attacked again but Draco was through it, forcing himself from overanalyzing it. Why did Potter even care? 

Draco kicks off on the swing he was on, flying higher until he felt his stomach drop on the decline. A slip of paper and the hoot of an owl alerts the boy however. He digs his heel intot he woodchips to slow down before hopping off the swing and snatching up the slip, frowning when he recognizes Harry's sloppy scrawl. The squib sighs, pocketing the letter and heading home. Draco wished his biggest worry while walking home was something like being jumped merely because those that would be easier to heal. Dementor attacks were much more complex. 

Upon walking through the door, Draco hears Scorpius hoot loudly and he lets off a colourful curse. His mother had forgotten to put the silencing charm up before heading to work. Despite being a pureblood, Narcissa Malfoy had the job of cleaning houses, not that she minded considering all she had to do was give each mess a flourish of her wand but on rare occasions she would tell Draco how the job often made her feel like a house elf and how she regretted treating Dobby so poorly. 

Dobby had been their elf back at the Manor and Draco had been rather close with him, devastated when harry had informed him of Dobby's death. Although Narcissa hadn't been particularly kind to Dobby, she was nowhere near as harsh as Lucius. The man often punished Dobby by forcing him to iron his hands or slam his fingers in doors. Whenever Narcissa witnessed this, she never objected but almost always healed the elf's injuries. 

Bellatrix, much like Lucius, had a strong distaste for both Dobby and Draco. One thing Narcissa never allowed her sister to do, however, was harm Draco. Unfortunately that seemed to be the only thing she had conrol over throughout her stay at the Manor. 

Draco curls up on the couch and opens Harry's letter. As expected, it was another worried note over Draco's well-being. The boy wasn't fine but he would pretend to be. He bites the endcap of his pen, thinking. 

Harry, 

I'm okay. I've just been having a bad last few mental health days. I'll talk when I'm feeling better. I'm sorry. 

Yours, 

Draco L. Malfoy 

When Harry gets this letter, he wears a deep set frown. Mental health wasn't something Harry put much thought into but now he was kicking himself for not realizing how blatantly obvious this was. Not all things revovled around magic and Harry had a hard time remembering that at times. Having been in the wizarding world for so long, away from the Dursleys and other muggles, he had conformed to wizard labels and mannerisms. Mental health seemingly, wasn't a part of that. 

Harry wanted to take away Draco's pain; wanted to cast as many cheering charms as needed but knew it wouldn't last in the long run. He lays back in his kitchen chair, running a hand through his hair and thought of Draco's. Blue. Oh so beautifully blue. Harry smiles at the mere thought of it. 

Draco however, had begun to hate it. He tugs at the colourful roots from his bed with gritted teeth. He hated this. He hated... himself. Tears pool in his shimmering grey eyes and Draco bites back a sob. He hated who he was, this body he was stuck in. He hated being a squib. He hated being a Malfoy. He hated his powerful parents. He hated it all. And he was just so damn angry. So Draco does something he knew he may regret later. He goes to the shop and buys a container of firetruck-red hair dye. Because the boy was fuming and wanted to release his inner turmoil. He had only dyed his hair once, two weeks ago, with the help of his best friend but this boy was too high on emotions. He felt confident in his abilities when though he knew he would regret it later. 

The dyeing process takes around an hour and Draco's anger hadn't faded since he started. He seemed satisfied with the change, more so than he had originally thought and, with red stained hands, Draco takes the bus to Pansy's. The girl also lived in the muggle part of town, having moved once the war had ended so it didn't take Draco very long to arrive. Although the Dementor attack happened two weeks ago, the Malfoy didn't trust it. He knocks on Pansy's door lazily and the dark haired witch answers with confusion when she first sees Draco as if she didn't quite recognize him but ushers the boy inside as soon as he greets her. "Merlin Draco. What did you do? You barely gave me a chance to get used to the blue before you go and change it. Why?" She questions, causing Draco to shrug. 

"I've dyed my hair the colour of my emotions and lately I've just been so fucking angry," He explains. 

Pansy runs a hand through Draco's hair affectionately with a smile. "Well, if it means anything, I really love it," 

Draco pulls her into a tight hug, burrowing into the girl's shoulder. "I'm sorry I haven't been answering you. I just needed to be alone," He whispers. 

Pansy runs a hand through her friend's hair again, a soothing action for the squib. "Don't be sorry. You don't need to apologize," She replies softly. Draco nods wordlessly before pulling out of Pansy's arms. "So why've you been so angry?" She asks as the two move over to her couch. Draco lets off a sigh before jumping into his distraught emotions. Pansy listens intently, nodding at the right moments and humming in understanding when need be. Draco appreciates this greatly. He knew he would never find a better friend than Pansy. She was always there when Draco needed her. She was the person he never knew he needed until they met. 

The two had come in contact with each other at a gathering the Malfoys were hosting. Draco had been ordered to stay out of sight until dinner was served and had been set at the end of the dining table, farthest away from the Malfoys as possible. The Parkinsons' had sat beside him and Pansy strikes up a conversation with him, that being the kind of person that she was. She acted as if she was unaware of Draco's status which meant the world to him. No one had ever treated him that way before and, at first, Draco wasn't sure how to handle it. he submitted to Pansy as if she was his superior and as soon as the girl noticed this, she made it her mission to prove to him that that wasn't needed and years later that never changed. 

Draco lays his head on Pansy's shoulder after he finishes and Parkinson says nothing, comforting him in silence which, Draco soon realizes, is exactly what he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured a bit of backstory to Pansy and Draco's friendship was needed. I hope you enjoyed. Much love x


	6. Chapter 6

"Whoa," Harry's blood runs cold at the sound of someone's voice bouncing off his living room walls. Wand raised, Potter sneaks toward the voice and bumps into the intruder. "Stupefy!" Harry gasps. A sharp groan follows the spell and Draco soars back against the farthest wall, stunned. "Fuck, Draco," Harry's eyes widen as he nears the boy whose hair was a vibrant red. "Draco, I'm so sorry," 

Draco only groans again in response, laid like a starfish across the floor. Harry tries not to panic when he picks the boy up and moves him to the couch. This wasn't all too serious of a spell despite the fact that Draco now seemed to be unconscious. 

A sharp ache runs deep in the back of Draco's head when he does awaken. He doesn't open his eyes at first, fear coursing through his veins. Although he knew what a stunning spell was, he had never been hit with one before. Draco sits up slowly, muscles stiff, opening his eyes moments later. He recognized Harry's living room from his short stay at the wizard's three weeks ago and quickly realizes he was alone. He wasn't sure where to go from here, however, thoughts still too murky and jumbled. "Harry?" He calls quietly, whole body aching as he gripped the edge of the couch, waiting for him. 

Footsteps fall in his direction moments after Draco speaks. "Draco, Merlin, I'm so sorry," Harry apologizes, wrapping his arms around the boy guiltily.

Draco rolls his eyes, ignoring Harry's reply but hugs him back. "It's fine," He murmurs into the wizard's hair. "I should've told you I was coming over but Mum has been using the owl all day. I wasn't even sure I'd be able to get past the wards around the house," 

Blushing slightly, Harry pulls out of Draco's embarce. "I allowed you through. Um, the ward lets in anyone who isn't a threat and you're not a threat to me so..." Harry mutters awkwardly, progressively getting more nervous when the finds Draco smiling weakly in his direction. "I must've forgotten about that and--" 

"You don't need to explain yourself to me, Harry," Draco tells him quietly. "Although, you could make it up to me by complimenting my hair," 

Chuckling softly, Harry takes in the boy's appearance. The red undoubtedly suited him but hell, anything suited that boy. It was disheveled, sticking up in every direction from the spill from the spell Harry had cast but neither were bothered by it. "It's lovely," Harry tells him. "What made you want to change it?" 

"That seems to be the million dollar question," Draco laughs, running a hand through it. "I wanted a change," He shrugs. 

"So you're feeling better now? Since you're visiting?" Harry asks gently and Draco cringes, hoping the boy wouldn't bring up his dwindling mental health. 

"Uh yeah, I guess." He mutters, staring down at his hands. "Sorry about the isolation thing. I... do that a lot. I probably should've told you sooner instead of ignoring your letters. You were worried and I didn't bother explaining. I'm sorry," Apologizing was something Harry realized Draco did often but doesn't bother pointing it out. Instead, he asks Draco if he wanted something to drink. Blushing much like Harry had, Draco asks, "Could we maybe have Butterbeer? I've never had it before but I've heard it's really good,"

Harry's face visibly brightens at the suggestion. "Have you ever Aparated before?" 

"Once," Draco replies and Harry nods, taking out his wand. He rests a light hand on Draco's shoulder before the two are transported to Three Broomsticks with a sharp crack. At first the two aren't noticed by the witches and wizards bustling inside the pub but a loud, "Harry, it's been ages!" alerts everyone around them. Murmurs pass like the plague around them. Stares also accompany them as Hagrid stumbles over, clapping Harry on the back. Much to everyone's surprise, he also offers Draco a friendly smile. The Hogwarts teacher and mutual friend of Harry had no reason to hate the boy and motions for the two to sit with him at the table he had moments before been sitting alone. 

"It's nice to see you again, Hagrid," Harry says, trying to talk over the whispers. He then orders drinks for both himself and Draco. The red haired squib thanks him as the Butterbeer arrives, grinning with excitement. As soon as he brings the glass to his lips and takes the first sip, his muscles ease from their rigid state. "Merlin, does any magic delicacy fix my injuries?" Draco mutters, lips curled into a smile over the top of his mug. 

Harry chuckles, elbowing Malfoy lightly and takes a drink from his own. "Git," He whispers. 

"Well, would you look at this!" A familiar voice gasps before Draco could reply. Both Harry and Draco duck their heads in unison, wanting to be anywhere else, the farthest away from Rita Skeeter as possible. They both recognized her and had an equal distaste for the witch. 

Harry finally makes eyes contact with Rita while Draco's skit toward her Quick Quotes Quill. The two both knew this wouldn't end well. "And why are we graced with your presence today, Rita?" Harry asks with a raised eyebrow, making Draco giggle quietly. 

The reporter ignores Draco although she had heard his snickers. "Well surely everyone would love to know why the famous Harry Potter would want to be anywhere near this disgusting squib," 

Draco visibly winces, amusement faded and Harry grits his teeth, angered. "I'd appreciate it if you left us be," He says, voice oddly calm. 

Rita hums, overjoyed by being able to saw at Harry's nerves. "You're really going to leave the people guessing, Harry? What happened to your two other followers? And why surround yourself with such a downgrade? I wasn't aware the bar could get much lower," 

Harry stands abruptly, grasp on his wand, fuming. Draco's eyes widen and he shoots up from his seat as well, pushing down Harry's wand which he had begun to raise. "C'mon Harry. She's not worth it, Lets just go back to yours," He whispers. 

Potter takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before nodding and turning toward Hagrid. "We're gonna go. I'll talk to you again soon," He promises. 

Hagrid gives the two a sorrowful nod and watches them exit the pub. Harry takes Draco's hand without a word and once they make it back tot he House of Black, the red haired boy whispers, "I'm sorry, Harry," 

"You need to stop apologizing for everything. especially things that aren't your fault," Harry replies, running a hand through his hair. 

Draco bites back another apology. it was an annoying habit even he hated. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" He asks quietly. 

Harry laughs bitterly. "Destroy the article Skeeter is writing right now, maybe," 

Draco frowns. He wished that he had never shown up at Harry's at all. All it managed to do was stir up trouble. "I think I'm actually just going to go home," The Malfoy mutters and walks over to the Floo, grabbing a handful of powder and stepping into the fireplace. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm going to keep apologizing because this is my fault. I'll talk later," He says before voicing his address and disappearing in flames. 

"How was Harry's, honey?" Narcissa asks once her son had returned home. 

"Terrible," Draco mutters, walking past her. "Do me a favor and don't read the Prophet tomorrow,"


	7. Chapter 7

Although Draco had told his mother not to read the Prophet, he had gone against his own wishes and read it himself. By the end of the article, the boy is fuming. Rita had conjured up a story of Potter and Malfoy being out on a date at the Three Broomsticks, falsely outing them. "Damn it," He hisses, throwing the Prophet down on his desk and running a hand over his face. Homosexuality wasn't something often discussed in the wizarding world and Rita had managed to destroy the Malfoy name once again. Draco didn't even want to think about what his father would say once he heard about this. Surely he wouldn't be pleased. 

Draco tells his mother he was going to Pansy's but doesn't go there straight away. he idles on the outskirts of Little Whinging first, an anxious wreck. He knew Pansy wouldn't hate him for this but his heart raced at the possibility. 

Pansy's mother allows Draco in when he arrives at the Parkinson residence and Malfoy stumbles into Pansy's room in tears. "Pansy," He whimpers pathetically. "Did you-- Did you read it?" 

The Slytherin girl frowns at her tearful friend and pulls him into a hug. "Yes," She replies quietly. 

"Most of the article was rubbish," Draco murmurs, voice rough and rugged with tears. 

"What part is true?" Pansy asks, treading lightly around her fragile friend. 

Draco shuts his eyes, anxiety bubbling deep in his chest and he clutches his hands into fists, taking a deep breath. "The part about um... about me being gay," He whispers. 

A few moments pass before Draco opens his eyes once again to gauge Pansy's reaction. "You'd have to be blind in order not to see that, Dray," She replies, grinning. 

Draco blushes as vibrant as his hair. "Sh-Shut up!" He stammers, and hides his face in his hands. The squib was jittery now; this time from embarrassment rather than anxiety. He never figured his friend would realize his biggest secret so quickly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Draco mutters, hands still cupping his face. 

"Don't be sorry. I wasn't going to face you to tell me. You'd do it when you were ready and... even though this wasn't the best circumstance I'm glad you did," Silence laps over them quickly yet neither minded. Draco watches Pansy levitate the Prophet wordlessly into the air before setting it on fire, spell falling delicately from her lips. Draco laughs wholeheartedly as the looped photo of himself and Harry catches fire before dissinagrating into ash.

"Mind doing that with the other hundreds of newspapers?" He asks bitterly. "I can only imagine how Harry's feeling right now," He says, watching Pansy grimace. They both knew how often the boy wonder made it into the Prophet and the spread of false drama over his sexuality surely wouldn't do him any good. "You think I should write him and apologize?" 

"You could try but I wouldn't if I were you. He probably wants to be left alone," Pansy advises. As soon as she brought along the possibility, it was all Draco could picture. The boy waking to his owl dropping the Prophet beside him on the mattress, Harry throwing on his glasses sleepily before he catches sight of the front cover. Just as Pansy guessed, Harry wouldn't be pleased. 

"You're right," Draco realized, collapsing on Pansy's bed. "I just can't help but feel like it's my fault even though deep down I know it's not. Harry hates that about me, you know. Apologizing for things I didn't do, I mean," Draco explains, thinking back to Harry's bitter tone from two nights before. "I don't even want to know what my father has to say about this. You know how he was always on me about continuing the Malfoy heir despite being a squib. And now I... can't," He whispers. 

At this, Pansy frowns. She had Draco had dated briefly throughout the war period, if only to keep their parents from breathing down their necks. As long as they surrounded themselves around other purebloods, it didn't matter to them who it was. As far as intimacy went, kissing and the caress of the inner thigh was the end of it. Pansy knew she wasn't unattractive; she had dozens of Slytherin boys fawning after her and found it entirely odd that Draco wasn't doing the same. She was completely confused on why this was until she found a half-tucked gay porno magazine trapped under his mattress. Then things finally started making sense. 

"I'm not going to tell you everything is going to be okay because it probably won't," Pansy begins, watching her friend wince. "But keep in mind that this house is yours too. Whenever you need a getaway, don't be afraid to drop by," 

Draco smiles softly at the Parkinson girl. "Thank you," He murmurs before checking his watch and saying his goodbyes, ready to head home. He walks slowly, taking in the scenery around him instead of ducking his head and scurrying home as he usually would. The air was crisp, sun setting just below the trees and he stops in awe at the sight. Draco Malfoy very much enjoyed beautiful things. "Mum?" He calls quietly once he had finally stepped through the threshold, a tingle running over his skin as the protective wards washed over him. 

Narcissa comes into view moments after Draco spoke. "Hi sweetie," She replies, smiling faintly yet Draco frowned at the sight of it. That wasn't her genuine smile; this was the one Draco often mimicked. Plastic and hiding pain. 

"What's going on?" Draco murmurs as his mother pulls him in for a tight hug. 

"Your father is sitting in the living room. Decided to pay a visit," Narcissa whispers, vocal chords trembling. 

"Fuck," Draco mutters, wringing his hands with worry. "Are you okay? Did he try anything on you?" 

Narcissa takes a deep breath, shuts her eyes and points her wand to her face. The glamour charm set there quickly washed away, leaving a red hand-print the size of his father's adorning her cheek. Mrs. Malfoy watches her son's face morph into undeniable rage and only then does she understand why Draco had dyed his hair. All of the anger he had been hiding was suddenly breaking free. 

"I'm going to kill him," Draco snaps, hands trembling and disappears from Narcissa's view moments later, stalking off to the living room. "I know you saw the Prophet and I know that's why you're angry," He begins, voice unnaturally even. "But you had no right to hit Mother, you filthy prick," The red haired boy lunges at his father, grabs the man's wand and snaps it swiftly in half. Narcissa gasps in the background and Lucius' eyes widen with disbelief. "Just us now. No unfair advantages," He hisses before tackling his father to the ground, a storm of flying fists. 

"Draco! Draco, stop!" Narcissa sobs. 

The sound of her cries momentarily distracts Draco and Lucius takes the chance to send a hard punch to his son's nose. Draco groans, surprised, only to have another punch thrown at him. Somewhere along the line, both Draco and Lucius had somehow separated and the red haired boy picks himself up from the floor, spitting blood on the hardwood beside his father's head. "Get the fuck out of my house," He says, voice boiling with onset anger.

Lucius doesn't need to be told twice, scrambling off the floor and grabbing the two broken pieces of his wand before shuffling out of the house. "Draco, honey oh my god--" Narcissa starts, finally nearing her son. "Let me fix it. I--" 

"No," Draco mutters, stepping away from her. "My nose is broken. Probably a few other things too. I trust you, Mum, but I need to be taken to the hospital," He tells her. 

"Okay," Narcissa sniffles and only then does Draco realize how hard she was crying. 

"It'll be quicker if we go to St. Mungos rather than a Muggle hospital," Draco points out, stumbling over to the Floo. "St. Mungos Hospital," He whimpers before dropping a handful of ash and disappearing in emerald flames. As he sits in the waiting room, filling out paperwork, he wonders how in Merlin's name his father had kept his wand in the first place. After the war, Narcissa had left the Wizengamot seemingly with only a slap of her wrists. Draco hadn't attended her hearing, having no reason to considering the squib took no real action in the Dark Lord's work and had stuck pacing anxiously around the Manor for his mother's return. 

Draco finishes his hospital paperwork quickly and hands it to the receptionist with shaking and blood stained hands. Upon noting his untidy appearance, he stumbles off to the bathroom to clean himself up. Blood-his fathers or his own, he couldn't be sure-vanished down the drain in pinkish orange swirls as he continues to scrub at his skin, avoiding his reflection even though he already had an idea of how roughed up he looked. 

The bathroom door opens as Draco lathers another round of soap into his palms and he flinches at the squeal of the hinges. "Draco?" 

The squib turns to face Harry Potter but doesn't meet his eyes. "What're you doing here, Harry?" Draco mutters. 

"Never mind that. It's not important." Harry says and cuts the red boy off when he had gone to argue. "What happened to you? Why're you bruised? And bleeding?" 

Draco hesitates, not sure telling Harry the truth would be wise before realizing he had nothing to lose. "My father and I got into a fight. He hit my mum and I wasn't going to let him get away with it," Anger rushes through Draco's veins again and he clenches his hands into fists, reopening the splits in his knuckles, causing them to bleed again. 

"What did the Healers say?" Harry asks softly. 

"Haven't seen them yet and I've been here for the better part of the hour," Draco mutters, drying his hands and watching disbelief run over Harry's face. 

"That's ridiculous," He says, voice tight. "Come on. You're going to be soon. Now," He grabs ahold of Draco's wrist, tugging him along and Draco winces at the rattle of his ribs.

"Ow, Harry. Hurts," He says, voice incredibly small. Harry swears quietly, apologizing as they leave, heading back tot he reception desk. 

The witch sitting there, looking through files barely gives them mind until she realizes it's Harry Potter standing in front of her. "Can I help you, Mr. Potter?" She asks, Draco being ignored completely. 

"Draco told he he's been sitting here for close to an hour and no one has come to see him. So why is it that I'm seen immediately and he's tossed aside?" 

"Our Healers are terribly busy at the moment," She says but both Harry and Draco saw through the lie. 

"Get someone to see him. Right now," He growls and a shiver runs down Draco's spine at his powerful tone. "I can't believe this," Harry says, supporting Draco at the elbow as they wait. 

"It's because I'm a Malfoy," Draco says. A Healer arrives before Harry could reply but the boy doesn't mind. All he wanted was his friend to be healed and healthy. 

"I can't bloody believe this," Harry repeats as the Healer finds them a room. "I should report all of you. Get you fired. There's no way segregating a patient's help is legal. I--" 

"Harry, it's fine. I'm getting help now. That's all that matters," Draco says dismissively. 

"But--" Harry begins and Draco cuts him off again. 

"My father sealed my fate the moment he started following Voldemort, Harry. This just so happens to be one of the consequences, alright?" He snaps, throwing the discussion away. 

Narcissa had followed behind Harry and Draco when they had gotten a room and now held Draco's hand as the Healer went over his injuries. Bruised ribs and a broken nose. Draco doesn't seem fazed by this but Harry and Narcissa are frantic, fussing over Draco who laid calmly against the lumpy hospital bed. 

The Healer fixes him up quickly and after paying for his stay, all Draco wanted was to lay down. So he says goodbye to Harry and takes the Floo home, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I'm told off about my inaccuracy, I know that Lucius would never physically harm Draco as he had in this chapter. He loved Draco and wanted to protect him at all costs so this was purely for plot, not because I don't know what I'm talking about.


	8. Chapter 8

"You snapped his wand?" Mrs. Figg asks incredulously, eyes wide. 

"He didn't deserve it after all he's done," Draco replies, tone rough.

"You could get in serious trouble. Draco. You know squibs aren't allowed to interfere with wands," Mrs. Figg hushes. 

Draco suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "I know, Arabella but what is he going to do about it? He won't go to the Ministry." At this, Arabella Figg looks wary and sips her tea, not sure what to tell him. She knew Draco was right; Lucius wouldn't go to the Ministry and even if he did, they wouldn't take him seriously. He had been pulled out of the loop as soon as the war ended and had been exposed as being on the wrong side. The Ministry had more respect for Draco and Narcissa if anything. The Minister had an odd fascination with squibs, especially those of the Malfoy variety. 

Draco runs a hand through his hair; Mrs. Figg loved it. "More tea, dear?" She asks softly although the boy's cup was still half full. All she wanted was more company and Draco understood completely, nodding as the woman lifts the tea kettle. 

"I don't regret it," He says quietly. "Snapping my father's wand, I mean," Draco clarifies. 

The red haired boy misses Mrs. Figg's soft smile which disappeared in an instant. "You're so protective of your mother," She observes, hand deep in her cat's fur. "It's very admirable." 

Draco fights a blush from his cheeks and says, "She means everything to me. We watch each other's backs and I'd do anything for her. Even if it killed me," He sighs slowly. "She never hated me for being a squib; kept me safe at the Manor when all the Death Eaters wanted to hurt me," Mrs. Figg notices the wobble in Draco's voice even if the boy himself hadn't and rests her hand over his. 

"Does Harry know you did that to his wand?" 

Draco shakes his head softly at this. "He doesn't even know why I was at the hospital in the first place and I'm not really planning on telling him," He mutters, finishing off his tea. He then excuses himself and heads home. 

The walk was peaceful; the air was crisp and bit at Draco's exposed skin. He loved walks like this; where his mind seemed to shut off and it was just him and the elements. When Draco gets home, he heads straight to his room, Harry Potter on his mind. He couldn't stop thinking of the powerful tone he had used while speaking to the hospital nurse. The way his eyes blazed with dominance. The mere thought of it made Draco's jeans a bit tighter. Although he would never admit it, the boy came to the thought of a certain dark haired, green eyed wizard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For fucks sake, I absolutely hated this chapter. I rewrote it a thousand different ways and hated every outcome, hence why this update is so late. Hopefully a shit chapter such as this won't happen again. Much love x


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updating this story after six months of absence, sorry about that. I've just felt really stuck on this story but I finally forced myself to sit down and write and pounded out pretty much this whole chapter in one sitting. Please forgive me for taking a break for a little bit. Hopefully I'll update more regularly now that I'm out of this writing slump! Much love and enjoy x

Draco did genuinely feel bad about cancelling on Harry but now had greater things to worry about. He is sitting in the St. Mungos waiting room with Pansy who was gripping his hand like a life raft. Tears caked her flushed cheeks, neck blotchy and red as another round of tears travel down her face. Draco doesn't tell her everything would be okay; he didn't want to risk lying to his closest friend. Instead, Draco squeezes Pansy's hand a bit tighter. 

Pansy's mother was currently being treated for a hex that had caused her throat to swell and her face, neck and hands to turn a frightening shade of blue. The resident Healers had been giving the two updates every half hour and each time the information never changed much. They managed to lessen the swelling slightly but her airway wasn't completely cleared as of yet and they weren't sure how to counter the hex. 

"I'm so scared," Pansy whispers once the Healer had disappeared. 

"Me too," Draco admits. Having been friends with Pansy for so many years, Draco had gotten to know Mrs. Parkinson rather well. She was like a proper second parental figure to him considering Lucius never was and it pained him knowing she was hurting. Tears of his own collect in Draco's eyes and although he had tried hiding them, Pansy noticed. "She's strong," The witch points out softly. "If she can survive a war, she can survive this," 

Draco nods slowly and wipes his eyes. "I'm gonna go have a smoke," He mutters, standing on shaky legs and wipes his eeys again although there were no tears to rid. "Send your Patronus if anything new happens," Pansy nods with a watery smile and motions him off.

Draco makes his way up to the roof of St. Mungos instead of heading to the front entrance; he needed someplace he was sure he would be completely alone and knew no one would look twice at him. Once he had made it up to the roof, Draco takes a pack of Marlbro Lights from the breast pocket of his shirt and lights it with shaky hands. 

Midway through his cigarette, an owl drops a letter at his feet and hoots scornfully at him, expecting a treat and Draco only sighs, flicking ash off the tail of his fag and says, "I don't have anything for you today, sorry," The owl rustles it's feathers with present irritation before flying off and Draco takes a final few strong drags on his cigarette before stubbing it out and picking up the letter. It was folded delicately in a complex triangle shape and Draco recognizes it instantly. Harry. He undoes the delicate letter and frowns as he reads it. 

Draco, 

If you didn't want to meet up with me, the least you could've done is have the decency to cancel. I've been waiting at the Leaky for the past hour and a half. 

Harry J. Potter 

At this, Draco's blood runs cold. he had forgotten all about his meet up with Harry today. He swears lowly under his breath before going back to join Pansy in the waiting room. "Anything new?" He asks as he sits beside her and pockets Potter's letter. 

"No," Pansy sighs, resting her cheek in her palm. Draco decides not to tell her about Harry's letter and instead takes in the deep purple bruises under her eyes. 

"You look exhausted. Get some rest. I'll wake you if the Healers say anything different," He says kindly. 

Looking slightly hesitant, Pansy eventually nods. "Alright," She mutters. "But tell me if literally anything changes. Even if she so much as coughs, you wake me," 

Laughing lightly, Draco nods. "Alright," He says. Pansy rests her head on his shoulder and falls asleep moments later. 

*** 

Draco arrives in front of Grimmauld early the next morning. Knocking on the door gently, he shifts from foot to foot anxiously and when Harry answers the door, he wears the slightest scowl upon noticing him. "Hi," Draco whispers lamely. 

"First you ditch me and now yo're coming over to mine uninvited?" He snaps and Draco flinches slightly. 

"I'm sorry," He murmurs. "But I can explain," Draco promises. 

Harry raises a skeptical eyebrow at the Malfoy. "Oh really?" He challenges and Draco nods. Harry sighs heavily, running a hand through unruly hair before allowing Draco inside. Draco hesitantly takes a seat on Harry's couch, hands clasped together with growing anxiety and Harry watches the boy bounce his knee with a bit lip before saying, "Well?" 

"My best friend Pansy's mum was taken to St. Mungos last night," He begins, eyes cast downward. "She got hit with a hex they've never seen before," The red haired boy's voice wobbles as tears collect in his eyes and he avoids Harry's gaze the best he can. "I was out having a smoke when I got your owl," His voice breaks near the end and he pulls the letter from his pocket with trembling hands. The paper was worn weak from Draco opening it repeatedly to read it and was no longer folded into the neat triangle it had been delivered. Draco had never been good with origami. "I was with Pansy all night in the waiting room. Rose is like a second parent to me; I've known her and Pansy for years. I'm sorry I never owled you to cancel. Everything was just so hectic," 

"Draco, I'm so sorry," Harry murmurs, voice softer than Draco had ever heard it. "Is she okay?" 

"Yeah, she is now," Draco replies quietly. "Pansy and I were up nearly all night," He sighs and only then does Harry notice the heavy bags under Draco's eyes. 

"I shouldn't have sent that letter. Hermione knew there must have been a reason you didn't show," Harry mumbles sheepishly, thinking back to the heated firecall he had with her upon getting back home. 

"I deserved it," Draco replies quietly, still not meeting Harry's gaze. "I have no excuse," 

"You friend's mother was dying. That sounds like a pretty good excuse to me," 

Draco squirms uncomfortably from where he sat, still fingering the note but can't come up with anything else to say. "Can I make it up to you somehow?" He asks eventually. 

"You don't have to make anything up to me, Draco," Harry says and the red haired boy nearly melts at the sound of his name on Harry's lips. 

"But I feel bad," Draco murmurs, staring down at his work tarnished hands. 

"You shouldn't," Harry says, taking the time to sit beside the boy and rest his hand over top of his. 

"I can't help it," Draco says with a sad smile. When he finally manages to look up at Harry, he finds the wizard's expression to be both fond and apologetic. He had never witnessed it before. "Can you do something for me?" He asks after a few moment's silence. 

Draco doesn't catch it but Harry's eyes visibly brighten. "Of course," He says, hoping not to come off too eager. By the way Draco was smiling at him however shows he had failed. 

"It's nothing big," Draco promises. "Just help me dye my hair again?" Harry grins, somewhat similar to Draco's and takes out his wand before the paler boy stops him. "I like doing it the muggle way," He admits sheepishly. "It helps remind me that muggles manage to pull off cool things too," 

Harry's insides instantly fill with warmth yet he couldn't exactly place why. So without another word, Harry stands and extends his arm out for Draco to take. Once he had, the two Apparate to the nearest muggle shop. "What colour?" Harry asks as Draco steers through the aisles. 

The red haired boy bites his lip in thought. "Um," He begins softly, eyeing all the different brands of dye. "Blue," He decides and picks a beautiful teal blue off the shelf, grinning to himself, satisfied with the choice. 

"Ready?" Harry asks once the Malfoy had merely stood idling amongst the shelves. 

Draco gives him a thoughtful glance before asking, "Do you think you could spell my hair blond again? The dye takes easier if my hair is lighter," 

Harry's hand momentarily flits to his wand, placed deep in his pants pocket and nods. "Of course I can," He shrugs and watches Draco's eyes shine with excitement and nods eagerly before leading Harry to the checkouts, feeling oddly at home with Draco's hand in his.

***

"I haven't been to Muggle London in a long time," Harry realizes as he sat with Draco in the middle of his bathroom at number 12. Draco runs a hand through his now blond hair with slight nostalgia and hums in thought. 

"Really?" He asks. Draco remembered reading in a Prophet article that Harry was a halfblood. Wouldn't he want to get back to his roots after all the trouble in the wizarding world? 

"Yeah," Harry says. "I spent most of my life in the muggle world before Hogwarts and haven't had the best experience there," Draco also remembers reading about Harry's troubled childhood in the papers too. When he looks up at Potter, his eyes don't hold any traces of pity. Harry seems incredibly grateful before it hits him that Draco had his fair share of abuse too. It wasn't pity in his eyes but empathy instead. 

"You gonna help me or not?" Draco says with a small teasing smile, hoping to break the tension. 

"Oh yeah, course," Harry says, straightening up. He watches Draco dilute the dye with conditioner, eyebrow furrowed with concentration and Harry can't help but smile fondly. Draco hands Harry the container of dye after mixing it thoroughly and Harry eyes it uncertainly. "Okay..." He starts. "Now what do I do?" 

Draco can't help but laugh, the action hearty and loud and the covers his mouth with his hand to stifle the sound, blushing lightly. "You just put it in my hair," He says after he pulls his hand away. Roots first," 

Harry nods, stomach knotted with nerves. "Okay," He mutters, slipping on gloves to shield his hands from an assault of blue. "Is there a brush or something I can use?" 

Draco laughs again but this time it's much more subdued. "Just use your hands, Harry. That's what I do," Haryr nods hesitantly and dips the edges of his fingertips into the plastic container. "You're going to need more than that," Draco grins, prompting him lightly. 

They're halfway done with Draco's hair when the screech of an owl from the next room alerts them. Both of their eyebrows furrow at the sound and Harry takes off his gloves with a snap before telling Draco to stay put. The squib does as he's told and squirms with curiosity at Harry's absence. He returns a few moments later holding a crisp letter folded neatly between his thick fingers. "Who's it from?" Draco asks and watches Harry frown. 

"I don't recognize the handwriting. Do you?" He hands over the letter and Draco takes it carefully as if it would crumble beneath his fingers if he handled it too roughly. 

"Pansy," He says instantly upon opening it. 

"What's it say?" Harry asks as Draco begins skimming the letter. 

"Just an update on her mum," Draco says once he finished. 

"Is she doing okay?" 

"She's doing fine," Draco says with a relieved sigh. "She says Rose got released from the hospital earlier today. Must've been not long after I left," He thinks back to the way the Healers had treated him when he had gone to St. Mungos and was glad she had been treated much better. Draco flips the letter over and asks Harry for a pen. The dark haired boy transfigures one out of a bar of soap before handing it over to him and Draco scribbles a reply quickly before Harry sends it off with his owl. "Now, where were we?" 

***

"I love it," Harry says, grinning wide at his reflection in the mirror and Harry lets off a sigh of relief with a smile of his own. 

"Thank Merlin," He murmurs and Draco can't help but chuckle. 

"I knew you'd do fine," He says instantly and a faint blush paints Harry's cheeks. 

"Well thanks," He does a lame bow and instantly feels like a complete idiot, only causes the blush to return. But if Draco continued to laugh and smile at him that way, he'd be willing to make a total fool of himself more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember reading in one of the books that Sirius folded his letters to Harry in triangles. Or was it Regulus? Or am I just making that up? I'm not even sure. I thought it was also sort of funny when I said Draco wasn't good at origami when he was the one who folded paper birds to send to Harry in PoA. Also, I don't think it ever mentioned Pansy's parents at all but someone on Tumblr told me that they did some research and found somewhere that her name was Rose so I just went with that. I hope you enjoyed. Next chapter is filled with angst so get hyped for that. Much love x


End file.
